Chords of Faith
by ladygris
Summary: A CD makes its way around Atlantis, causing the characters to truly examine their beliefs on God and faith. A series of faith-centered one-shots. Chapter 7: Glorious Day. Ronon learns about Easter.
1. Does Anybody Hear Her?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing related to Stargate: Atlantis. It belongs to MGM. I'm just taking the characters for a ride.

**Author's Note:** I'll admit to being inspired by Penelope the Perky Penguin's challenge and story, "Celebration of Melodies." I'm not trying to jump onto her bandwagon or steal her thunder. I just have these songs I've loved for a long time burning in me and have to let them out. I am a Christian and, as such, will be using Christian songs. This story will be a lot like my "Christmas Carols," in that it'll be comprised of one-shots. However, I might revisit a character again if the inspiration strikes, building on the previous appearance of that character. I don't know when or if this story will end, or how often I'll add to it. I have other, bigger, projects in the works and am focusing on those. But these Chords won't leave me alone, so I'm writing them. I pray you are blessed by them. ~lg

oOo

_She is running a hundred miles an hour  
__In the wrong direction.  
__She is trying, but the canyon's ever widening  
__In the depths of her cold heart._

Jennifer Keller certainly related to the words of this song. She glanced at the CD cover and frowned. Who put a Christian CD in the mix of others at the base library? It didn't matter. She'd heard Marie listening to it on her MP3 player at work and decided she needed to give the CD a try. So far, she'd liked most of the songs even if they made her think of her mother's family.

_So she sets out on another misadventure just to find  
__She's another two years older and  
__She's three more steps behind_.

Boy, did that describe the last few months! Jennifer shook her head, thinking of the time she'd spent in Atlantis. First Carson, and then Elizabeth, had died. Then Kate. And then the Athosians. The deaths kept piling up, and Jennifer wasn't sure she could handle everything.

_Does anybody hear her?  
__Can anybody see?  
__Does anybody even know she's going down today?  
__Under the shadow of our steeple,  
__With all the lost and lonely people,  
__Looking for the hope that's tucked away in you and me.  
__Does anybody hear her?  
__Can anybody see?_

The chorus of the song brought tears to Jennifer's eyes. How had the song's writer known her struggles? She'd wondered for weeks if someone, somewhere, understood what she'd gone through. The nights of questions. The days of insecurities. The moments when lives rested in the decisions she made. Just a simple mistake in someone's medication could end a life. Did anyone see those struggles?

_She is yearning for shelter and affection  
__That she never found at home._

Well, Jennifer didn't relate to that. She'd had wonderful parents who gave her everything she needed and a lot of what she wanted. During her years at college, she'd loved to return to their home, ignore the world, and study. But her home was devoid of one thing: companionship. While she had her parents, she never really had a close friend. Not when all of her classmates were five years her senior. Or more.

_She is searching for a hero to ride in,  
__To ride in and save the day.  
__And in walks her Prince Charming  
__And he knows just what to say.  
__Momentary lapse of reason  
__And she gives herself away._

Jennifer knew all about momentary lapses of reason. She'd had a few of them over the years. The first had been during her sophomore year of college. She'd been all of sixteen years old, rebellious, and thinking she knew more than her parents. Her education in the harshness of life came the night she snuck from her parents' home in order to meet the twenty-year-old guy from her English class. He'd left her broken and crying in the back seat of his car as he drove her back to her home.

Later, she learned he did this to all freshmen and sophomores. But, at that moment, Jennifer decided she didn't want that sort of relationship. She'd changed her mind in later years, of course. But that experience colored everything.

_Does anybody hear her?  
__Can anybody see?  
__Does anybody even know she's going down today?  
__Under the shadow of our steeple,  
__With all the lost and lonely people,  
__Looking for the hope that's tucked away in you and me.  
__Does anybody hear her?  
__Can anybody see?_

Yes, Jennifer Keller had cried those words. Whispered those words. Wondered those words. Did anyone even care about her?

_If judgment looms under every steeple,  
__If lofty glances from lofty people,  
__Can't see past her scarlet letter,  
__And we've never even met her._

Was there a place where she could find peace? Jennifer wondered as she let the final strains of the song play through the headphones she'd found in the back of her dresser. How had one person known her inner struggles? It was as if someone had told the writer of the song.

_Does anybody hear her?  
__Can anybody see?  
__Does anybody even know she's going down today?  
__Under the shadow of our steeple,  
__With all the lost and lonely people,  
__Looking for the hope that's tucked away in you and me.  
__Does anybody hear her?  
__Can anybody see?_

As she settled back in her chair, Jennifer thought she heard a voice. _**I care**_. She glanced around. Who had spoken to her? From somewhere, peace flooded into her mind, and she smiled for the first time in days. She didn't care who had spoken to her. Someone saw her struggles and cared. Lifting eyes suspiciously wet, she watched those around her settle in for lunch or leave for duty shifts. The tears blurred the images, but they didn't fall. Not yet. She would shed those in private. For now, this was enough.

Movement drew her attention, and she glanced over in time to see Major Lorne leave the mess hall as the final words of the song played into her ears.

_He is running a hundred miles an hour,  
__In the wrong direction._

**Author's Note II:** You can blame this one on my hubby, Lithane. He gave me the song and character. I just wrote what came to mind. "Does Anybody Hear Her?" was written by Mark Hall and recorded by Casting Crowns in 2005 for their album "Lifesong." Also, I have not included a word count here because I didn't give myself one. After completing my two New Year's stories, I'm enjoying the freedom of not worrying about how many words I write. :)


	2. Stained Glass Masquerade

Major Evan Lorne settled into his desk chair and opened the package from home. The mail delivery on the _Daedalus_ that day brought a smile to his face when he realized he'd received a box from his sister. She'd tucked a CD in along with the usual framed pictures and book he'd requested. He set the book aside to read the next day, glanced at the CD titles, and smiled at the pictures. His nephews were getting so big, and he missed so much of their lives. Tired after an off world mission, however, Evan readied for bed, leaving his treasures on his desk.

The next day, he rose late, showered and shaved, and dressed in civvies. While Atlantis's uniforms weren't fancy, they did get old after a while. Sometimes, a man liked to climb into a comfortable pair of jeans. As he straightened his room, his eyes fell on the CD his sister had sent, and he popped it into his computer to listen. His sister played guitar for an indie band, providing her husband and family with extra income, and she'd sent a mix of the songs they either wrote or covered.

_Is there anyone that fails?  
__Is there anyone that falls?  
__Am I the only one in church today  
__Feelin' so small?_

The words drew his attention from the back of the book. What was this? Evan scowled and glanced at the CD cover. The title didn't tell him anything, so he continued to listen.

_'Cause when I take a look around,  
__Everybody seems so strong.  
__I know they'll soon discover  
__That I don't belong._

He couldn't argue with that. Atlantis housed some of the greatest minds Earth had to offer. It also housed some of the most stubborn individuals. Like Sheppard. If anyone could out-stubborn a Wraith queen, it was Sheppard. And Ronon. Evan had learned to live with stubborn people around him.

_So I tuck it all away, like everything's okay.  
__If I make them all believe it,  
__Maybe I'll believe it too.  
__So with a painted grin, I play the part again.  
__Hoping everyone will see me  
__The way that I see them._

Wow. Evan blinked at how close to home those lyrics hit. He'd always tucked his personal feelings behind him. Women he'd known. Men he'd lost in combat. The times Sheppard had disappeared. Kate, the one woman with whom he thought he'd share his life. Elizabeth. Carson Beckett.

At the thought, Evan whirled away from the desk, not wanting to think any longer. He hadn't thought about Carson since the day he'd carried the man's casket through the wormhole. The good doctor had been buried in his native Scotland while Evan visited his sister. How wrong was that?

_Are we happy plastic people  
__Under shiny plastic steeples,  
__With walls around our weakness  
__And smiles to hide our pain?  
__But if the invitation's open  
__To every heart that has been broken,  
__Maybe then we close the curtain  
__On our stained glass masquerade._

"I really am plastic, aren't I?" he murmured. No one would tell him that to his face, but he knew the truth. He kept people at arm's length most of the time. Even Zelenka, who he'd call his closest friend, didn't know he and Kate had dated for over a year. Zelenka didn't know about the ring Evan kept on him at all times, a reminder of his loss.

_Is there anyone who's been there?  
__Are there any hands to raise?  
__Am I the only one who's traded  
__In the altar for a stage?_

He was an actor. He knew it. Years in the military had taught him to bury his emotions and focus on the mission. But what happened when the mission ended? How did he deal with those emotions when the mission screeched to a halt and people died?

_The performance is convincing,  
__And we know every line by heart.  
__Only when no one is watching  
__Can we really fall apart._

Evan turned back to the window, to the silent form waiting for his attention. It had collected a fine layer of dust in the last few months. When he'd returned from the _Apollo_, he'd discovered it face down in the middle of the scattered paints. He'd lifted it back into place without removing its shroud. To him, it became the silent witness of his failures.

He'd let Carson Beckett die. Oh, he knew enough to understand that nothing in his skill set would have saved the doctor. Not really. But he knew how to fish. He could have gone fishing rather than painting. But he'd been too enamored with the city, with the idea of giving Kate something she'd never forget. Instead, it memorialized one of his greatest failures.

Kate was the other failure. When he'd been in isolation following his sleepwalking incident, Kate had sympathetically watched over him. He'd longed to hold her, to reassure her that everything would be okay. But he couldn't, and it frustrated him. Learning the entity that Colonel Sheppard had brought back from another planet wasn't in him any longer, he'd rushed to Kate's office, locking the door for a few minutes while they reconnected with one another.

And, yet, she'd still died. He hadn't let anyone see his grief. Refused to let others close to him. And Evan knew he'd made a mistake.

_But would it set me free  
__If I dared to let you see  
__The truth behind the person  
__That you imagine me to be?_

_Would your eyes be opened?  
__Or would you walk away?  
__Would the love of Jesus  
__Be enough to make you stay?_

Was there Someone, somewhere, who would look past his failures? He hoped so. His sister believed so. But Evan wasn't the forgiving kind. Oh, he forgave others, but his own failures continually haunted him. The lives he'd taken. The lives he'd lost. The families he'd ripped apart, all in the name of God and country. _No_, he decided. _Not in the name of God. Only in the name of country._ He refused to say God ruled his life when he knew that Evan Lorne ruled his life.

_Are we happy plastic people  
__Under shiny plastic steeples,  
__With walls around our weakness  
__And smiles to hide our pain?  
__But if the invitation's open  
__To every heart that has been broken,  
__Maybe then we close the curtain  
__On our stained glass masquerade._

Evan sighed and dropped onto his bed. He really needed to do something with all these thoughts. These revelations could distract him in the field, and his team didn't need that. They depended on him to bring them safely home. So many times, he'd taken comfort in that and had refused the simple friendships offered to him. He'd been plastic, trying to appear unaffected when life ripped him to shreds.

_No more_, he decided. Rising from his position, he moved toward the covered painting. He stopped just short of removing the shroud. It wasn't time. He'd uncover the painting and finish it when the time arrived, but that wasn't what today required. Today. . . . He smiled. Today, he would become a friend.

_Is there anyone that fails?  
__Is there anyone that falls?  
__Am I the only one in church today  
__Feelin' so small?_

**Author's Note:** "Stained Glass Masquerade" was written by Mark Hall and Nichole Nordeman and recorded by Casting Crowns in 2005. It is also part of their "Lifesong" album.


	3. Did You Mean Me?

**Author's Note:** "Did You Mean Me?" was written by Todd Agnew and recorded on his 2009 album, Need. I'm issuing a tissue alert in this chapter, though I don't know how many will need it. I cry every time I hear this song because of how real, how honest it is. To God be the glory! ~lg

oOo

John Sheppard settled into a chair in the mess hall. He dropped his stack of paperwork there and sighed. Lorne was coming, bringing the music for today's paperwork session, and Sheppard needed more coffee. He'd already had a cup that morning, but he hadn't slept well the night before. He really wished he could sleep, but that seemed to be a precious commodity lately.

Lorne appeared, carrying the CD player and his own stack of paperwork. "Sir," he said by way of greeting.

"Lorne." Sheppard headed for the kitchen to grab two large cups of coffee. They did this once a week, getting together to work on requisition forms, personnel transfers, mission reports, and any number of forms that required their signatures. It helped both men keep up, and they had learned that music made the time go faster.

Lorne had the music already playing by the time Sheppard returned to the table. He glanced up. "Hope you don't mind, Sir. My sister's in a band back on Earth, and she sent me a CD."

Sheppard shrugged. "No problem, Major."

The two men worked in silence for a time, both caught up in their work. Sheppard watched Lorne's head bob in time with some of the rock beats and wondered vaguely how the man could focus on his work and still keep time. Musical talent must run in the Lorne family along with artistic abilities.

A soft guitar introduction pulled Sheppard's attention from his work. He kept his eyes on his paperwork as he listened, already imagining the feel of his guitar strings under his fingers as he played the melody. It had been far too long, and the sudden urge to pick up the instrument surprised him.

_I've heard these stories all my life  
__Every Sunday morning,  
__I met Jesus at the feltboard._

Sheppard blinked. This was _Christian_ music? Since when did Lorne listen to Christian music?

Pushing the questions from his mind, he also shook away the images the words stirred in him. Those were innocent days. His mother took him to church, and he'd watched as the Sunday school teacher used a felt-covered board to tell stories, attaching paper figures with felt backing so they stuck to it. That was before his father said they couldn't go to church.

_I've heard these stories so many times  
__Of how and why You died  
__And how I can live._

Sheppard remembered the Crucifixion story. He knew why Jesus had died. According to the Bible, anyway. Even though they didn't go to church, his mother made sure he knew the stories. He could still quote some of them.

_But You said all sins can be forgiven  
__But when You said that did You mean me?  
__Did You mean me?_

Sins. Sheppard understood sins. He had a few of them. Oh, he called them regrets. Failures. But they required absolution all the same. Colonel Sumner's face flashed through his mind, and he almost winced. He didn't think of Sumner often, only in the darkest moments. Most days, he pushed the memory of the shot he'd taken to the back of his mind, comforting himself with the idea that the Wraith Keeper had killed Sumner. But that hadn't been the killing blow.

Everett's arrival and Caldwell's caustic words as a Goa'uld ground his responsibility into him. He'd killed his commanding officer. No matter how many times he remembered Sumner's nod of permission, he'd taken the life of one of his men.

_You said that we could be more like You,  
__But did You know what I'd do,  
__How I'd fall so short?_

He'd fallen short. Sheppard set aside his pen and rubbed his eyes as if he were tired. He wanted to go get more coffee, but he knew he was running from the truth. He'd failed, and nothing he could have done would have changed anything. Faces popped into his mind, those he called his ghosts. Ford. Walker. Stevens. Carson. Elizabeth. Heightmeyer. All of these people had died or gone missing as a direct result of his failures and actions. Or inaction, in the case of Carson. It didn't help that Carson's code overrode everything. Sheppard should have been able to do _something._

_And You said confession leads to healing  
__Do You see I'm here and kneeling,  
__And I'm still not well?_

He didn't want to confess. What would Lorne think if he suddenly started blubbering like a baby, spilling out all of these regrets? These sins? No, he couldn't take that step. Not here.

_But You said that faith could move a mountain  
__But when You said that, did You mean me?_

_Did You mean me  
__When You said we were made in Your image?  
__'Cause I don't see much of You in this reflection.  
__Did You mean me  
__When You said we would do even greater things?  
__'Cause I don't see anything that I have to offer You._

What could God want with him? He was nothing, a failure. He'd arrived in Atlantis by sheer chance. How could he have known that something in his DNA would make him the perfect candidate for this position? A simple flight from McMurdo had led to his greatest mistakes.

_Did You mean me?_

_You said that You would never leave us  
__But when You said that,  
__Did You mean me?_

Nancy. Out of everything that he'd done since coming to Pegasus, Sheppard regretted his actions toward Nancy most. It wasn't because he'd killed her, but because he'd left her to rebuild her life. He knew their marriage problems grew from his inability to communicate. But what did he tell his wife when he came home from a black ops assignment that required him to kill another human being? Sheppard had no problem with war. He knew that it was inevitable. But the faces of those men and women, the children who strapped bombs to themselves, the desperation he'd seen overseas. . . . He couldn't subject Nancy to that. And she'd seen that as her failure.

By leaving her, he had told her that she'd failed him. And he thought that might be his biggest regret.

The song ended, but Sheppard's concentration had shattered. He kept hearing the question over and over again. _Did You mean me?_ Did God mean John Sheppard when He said confession would heal him? Could there be repentance, absolution for him?

As Lorne gathered up the last of his paperwork, Sheppard held up a finger. "Hey, mind if I take that CD and copy it?"

Lorne shrugged. "Sure."

"Thanks." Sheppard grabbed the CD and headed for his quarters. He needed to think. Plugging the CD into his computer, he took up his guitar and perched on the edge of his bed. It had been too long since he took the time to truly think, to feel the weight of what he'd done. As he plucked the strings along with the song, his tears began to fall. Here, in private, he allowed the questions to flow. He didn't know if Anyone listened, but he willingly poured out his heart. As the song ended, he made the final two lines his prayer.

_Please don't leave me.  
__Did You mean me?_


	4. Take It All

**Author's Note:** "Take It All" words were written by Mark Lee, music by Third Day, and it was and recorded on Third Day's album, Revelation.

~For my friend~

oOo

Sheppard copied Lorne's CD and returned it the next day. He said nothing about the music, only a quick "Thanks." Lorne left him alone about it, seemingly consumed with his own worries.

For three days, Sheppard listened to the CD in private. After his little breakdown, he'd found comfort in the music. He couldn't explain it, nor did he want to explain it. But the songs, so real and honest, spoke to his heart.

A week after his first listen to the CD, John stormed into his quarters and threw his empty TAC vest on the couch. It didn't make enough noise, and he nearly picked it back up to throw it again. He wanted to break something. Anything. Do whatever it took to get away from the anger.

He'd lost two men that day. Two men serving under his command. Two men who died to get him and his team out alive. Two men whose lives he'd promised to guard and protect. While those men knew and agreed with the danger by choosing to live in a combat zone, Sheppard still saw it as his responsibility to protect them.

He had another regret. Another sin.

Switching on the CD player, he let the music fill his quarters while he took a shower. The hot water washed away the grime from the Wraith prison, but it didn't wash away the shame that coated the inside of his throat and mouth. It didn't soothe the internal cuts that no one saw. Finally despairing of truly getting clean, he turned off the water and dressed.

_All the promises I've broken,  
__All the times I've let You down,  
__You've forgot them,  
__But still I hold on to the pain that makes me drown._

The songs had clicked through while he'd been in the shower, and Sheppard knew this was the final song on the CD. He dropped onto his bed, absently picking up his guitar while he listened. He didn't want to think about the promises he'd broken. He wanted to listen to the other song, the one asking God questions, not this one about broken promises.

_Now I'm ready  
__To let it go  
__To give it away._

He wished he could give it away. He wanted nothing more than to give everything over to Lorne and disappear back to Earth. He'd never do that because Atlantis was his home, his life. He had almost as much blood, sweat, and tears invested in this city as Teyla and Ronon put together. At least, it felt that way some days.

Could he truly give all that away?

_Take it all 'cause I can't take it any longer.  
__All I have, I can't make it on my own.  
__Take the first, take the last,  
__Take the good and take the rest.  
__Here I am, all I have,  
__Take it all._

"Take it all," he murmured. Sometime during the song, he'd started playing along. Most of the time, he pretended to be just a flyboy, but he knew the truth. He could have been MENSA. He played guitar by ear. Could probably play the piano if he put his mind to it. Music was math, and he was good at math.

He wasn't good at surrender. Even when Kolya had used a Wraith to torture him, he'd never surrendered. Could he do so, now, when faced with so many decisions?

_All the roads that lie before me  
__All the struggles I go through,  
__Every second I'm reminded  
__That it all belongs to You._

It really did belong to God. John shook his head at that realization. God, Who had created the universe, owned everything. He saw death, heartache, the Wraith. Most would question the existence of God given everything they knew about the Ancients. Not John. Ronon said it best. _There's always something bigger out there._ Besides, Who created the Ancients?

_Now I'm ready  
__To let it go  
__To give it away._

If it all belonged to God, then he couldn't hold on to it any longer. John stopped playing, letting the guitar strings hum into silence as he thought about that. If everything belonged to God, then he'd become a thief by trying to take it and control it. He couldn't. He barely controlled his own life. What made him think he could control everything else?

_Take it all 'cause I can't take it any longer  
__All I have, I can't make it on my own.  
__Take the first, take the last,  
__Take the good and take the rest  
__Here I am, all I have  
__Take it all._

For the first time since he was a child, John Sheppard knelt next to his bed. He had no words to adequately express the depths of anger, of frustration, of grief. Instead, he let the music speak for him, drawing the tears from his eyes. His weeping cleansed a part of him, and he rocked back on his heels.

_And ever since I died to myself,  
__You gave a better life to me.  
__I give You my finest moment,  
__I give You the last breath I breathe._

He had truly given his life to God. Oh, he knew he had some big steps yet to take. He had changes to make in his life. But, in giving his life to God, he had died to his own desires, to his own dreams. That death wasn't physical. But it was real. He'd have to stop and think about what God would want before he took a step. He'd have to learn to surrender his will. It wouldn't be easy, but, for the first time in years, he felt free.

_Take it all 'cause I can't take it any longer  
__All I have, I can't make it on my own.  
__Take the first, take the last,  
__Take the good and take the rest  
__Here I am, all I have  
__Take it all._

His freedom didn't come from his physical situation. He still had the deaths of two men to cope with, particularly with telling their families. But he wouldn't be alone. He'd accepted that he couldn't handle it all by himself. By surrendering, he'd given his best to God. Those moments when his out-of-the-box ideas saved the day now belonged to a Higher Power. He'd given his final moments. When he thought hope was lost and he'd reached the end, God would be there. He'd given his good times, the times when he and his team laughed until they cried. And he'd given the rest, times like now, when everything fell apart and left him with nothing.

As he drew in a deep breath, John Sheppard realized that, even if he lost everything, he'd still have something. He'd have God.


	5. Legacy

**Author's Note:** "Legacy" was featured on Nichole Nordeman's CD "This Mystery." This story was written for daisyscrapper, who suggested the song. I hope you enjoyed it, my friend. ~lg

oOo

"Will you be accompanying Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay?" Woolsey's question stopped John in his tracks as Teyla struggled to find an answer. "I only ask because I've yet to receive your formal request to return to active duty."

John turned to stare at Teyla. "Of _course_ she'll be returning, right?" He looked as if he expected a positive response.

Teyla hated to admit her struggle. "I have yet to make a decision about my future with the team."

"Oh!" John blinked in surprise. "Well, okay." He went his way, and Teyla followed a little slower.

She really did not know what to do now that she'd had Torren. While she had carried him in her womb, she had debated whether or not to stay with John's team. After all, her son should be her priority. And Kanaan, now that he had been cured from Michael's experimentation. But she could not just abandon John, Rodney, and Ronon. Not after all this time.

Two days later, Teyla cradled her newborn son and slowly paced her quarters. Kanaan had been allowed to move back onto Atlantis, and they had settled into life as a little family. Just what Teyla had wanted before she even learned she was with child. But, now, her life was less than satisfying. Even with Torren to care for and Kanaan to hold her, she missed something.

The iPod, a gift from John after his last visit to Earth, switched songs, and Teyla slowly moved to change the music back to something softer. Torren had just dropped off to sleep, and she did not want the happier beat to wake him. She froze, however, when she heard the words.

_I don't mind if you've got something nice to say about me.  
__I enjoy an accolade like the rest.  
__You could take my picture and hang it in a gallery  
__Of all the who's who and so-n-so's that used to be the best  
__At such-n-such. . .It wouldn't matter much._

Teyla's hand hovered over the skip button, but she continued to listen. She liked the accolades that came with being on Colonel Sheppard's team, but she also needed to be available for her son. If she lost her life before she was able to raise her son, the accolades would not matter.

_I won't lie, it feels alright to see your name in lights,  
__We all need an "Atta, boy" or "Atta, girl."  
__But in the end, I'd like to hang my hat on more besides  
__The temporary trappings of this world._

Was her place on John's team temporary? It certainly was not what she had planned for her life. She had told Mr. Woolsey that when she asked him if he had children. She needed to know that her son had a mother who would be available for him.

_I want to leave a legacy,  
__How will they remember me?  
__Did I choose to trust? Did I point to You enough  
__To make a mark on things?  
__I want to leave an offering,  
__A child of mercy and grace  
__Who blessed Your name unapologetically.  
__And leave that kind of legacy._

Teyla stared at her son's face as he slept. She wanted a legacy for Torren, for all Athosians. She hoped that, one day, her son could look back on what his mother had accomplished and say that she made a difference. Her time in Atlantis had provided a way for her to do just that. But could she give that up to be always present with her son? What if Michael still lived? The Wraith? Those who sought the end of Atlantis? Could she honestly leave her position on John's team, where she actively fought for good, and stay at home all the time?

_I don't have to look too far or too long awhile  
__To make a lengthy list of all that I enjoy.  
__It's an accumulating trinket and a treasure pile,  
__Where moth and rust, thieves and such will soon enough destroy._

_I want to leave a legacy,  
__How will they remember me?  
__Did I choose to trust? Did I point to You enough  
__To make a mark on things?  
__I want to leave an offering,  
__A child of mercy and grace  
__Who blessed Your name unapologetically.  
__And leave that kind of legacy._

As the music waned, Teyla drew in a deep breath. She wanted so much more for her son than the life she lived. She wanted him to grow up knowing freedom from the Wraith. She wanted him to have every opportunity to mature and learn. She wanted wanted a legacy for him.

_Not well-traveled or well-read, not well-to-do or well bred.  
__Just want to hear instead, "Well done, good and faithful one. . . ."_

John had clearly added this song to her iPod. He had developed a faith in one called Jesus Christ not long ago, and Teyla had briefly asked him about it. John called it a relationship with Jesus, and, while she did not understand much of this faith that John called his own, she knew it had changed his life. While she no longer believed in the Ancestors as gods, and while she had not made any other decision regarding faith, she still appreciated this song. Through an apparently random occurrence, John had helped her make her decision.

She had a legacy that she could leave Torren. It might take her far from home, and it might ultimately take her life. But she must do everything within her power to secure his future and the future of every child in Pegasus who one day would live in the shadow of the Wraith.

Laying her sleeping son in his cradle, she bent over and rocked him until he settled back into sleep. The door to her quarters opened behind her, and Kanaan walked over to her. "He's already sleeping?" His surprise made her smile as he joined her in watching their son. "Why does it take so much longer when I try to put him down?"

"You worry too much," Teyla whispered. "Perhaps he senses your anxiety."

"Or maybe he prefers the comfort of his mother's presence."

Teyla's eyes slid shut as she realized the effect of her decision. Still, it must be said. Straightening and looking Kanaan in the eye, she said, "Well, there may be a time when he will have to learn to do without."

As the meaning of her words registered on Kanaan's face, Teyla let out a deep breath. The chorus of the song played through her head one more time, an echo of her own desires.

_I want to leave a legacy,  
__How will they remember me?  
__Did I choose to trust? Did I point to You enough  
__To make a mark on things?  
__I want to leave an offering,  
__A child of mercy and grace  
__Who blessed Your name unapologetically.  
__And leave that kind of legacy._


	6. You Deliver Me

**Author's Note:** Okay, I originally wanted this to be a series of one-shots, but this one blows that idea out of the water. Instead, this idea has become a series of reflections without any set order. :) This one-shot contains spoilers for "Sunday," "Adrift," "Doppelganger," "Tabula Rasa," and "Missing." "You Deliver Me" was released on Selah's seventh studio album by the same name in August 2009. As always, I hope you enjoy! ~lg

oOo

_Deep as the ocean, right as rain,  
__This powerful emotion lifts me up above the plain._

Jennifer frowned as she heard the soft guitar chords float from a balcony. Colonel Sheppard's voice, quietly singing the lyrics, drew her toward the open door.

_It's taken me to places I never thought I'd go,  
__Showing me a grace I never thought I'd know._

She almost walked away, but the emotion behind his singing captured her. She stood, riveted to the spot, as he continued to sing.

_When I feel like I can't go on,  
__You deliver me.  
__When the road is winding way too long,  
__You deliver me,  
__You deliver me!_

Jennifer blinked as the words impacted her. She knew what it meant to feel like she couldn't continue. She'd just escaped one such situation. Thinking back on her time on New Athos, she shook her head. If it wasn't for Teyla and her survivalist attitude, Jennifer would have died by the hands of the Bola Kai or Nebal.

But she'd been rescued. Delivered. Whatever. After a night that seemed to go on forever, she had made it back to Atlantis. Now she understood why soldiers kissed the ground of their home soil after a time away. She'd wanted to kiss Sheppard, Ronon, and McKay when they first appeared. And she had given in to a few tears after her sprained ankle had been treated.

_I feel like a sinner, my sins have been washed clean  
__An absolute beginner whose heart has never seen._

Maybe she wasn't forgiven for everything, but Teyla's gentle acceptance after their return to Atlantis made Jennifer feel as if everything would be okay. Yes, the Athosians were missing. Yes, she'd had to tell Teyla some wonderful, yet devastating news. But she'd actually survived. She, a beginner when compared to veterans like Teyla or Colonel Sheppard, had returned to Atlantis a little worse for wear.

_I must be forgiven for sometimes asking why  
__I was chosen to be given You in this life._

Too many times, Jennifer had asked why. Why was she the one to take up Carson Beckett's place when he died? Why did she have to endure the horrible realization that Elizabeth wouldn't survive? Why was she the one ultimately responsible for reactivating the nanites that ended Elizabeth's life as she knew it? Why. . . . She'd asked the question so many times, and she never had an answer. She never got a response from anyone.

Could she have been asking the wrong people? Was there Someone out there Who would answer her questions? Jennifer's father thought so, even if he no longer attended church. But what did _she_ think about faith? Could she take the step and ask God to help her?

_When I feel like I can't go on,  
__You deliver me.  
__When the road is winding way too long,  
__You deliver me!_

_When there's a distance,  
__Between what I am and who I want to be,  
__You deliver me!_

Colonel Sheppard's voice choked at that moment, but Jennifer didn't mind. She let out a deep breath, suddenly close to tears as well. Coming to Atlantis had shown her so many things she never thought she'd see. But it required so much more from her than she was prepared to give. Just a week ago, she'd lost all her memories thanks to a mutated virus. She had watched Colonel Carter tell the entire base that an energy being had killed one of their own. Jennifer wanted to be a doctor, a life saver, a hero. Instead, she hadn't been able to save anyone. Not really. She'd lost Carson, Elizabeth, Kate, and those few taken by the Kiersan fever. She hadn't found the cure for the fever, and the entire base had dissolved into chaos. She wasn't a hero. She was so far from where she wanted to be that she didn't know how to get there.

_When I feel like I can't go on,  
__You deliver me.  
__When the road is winding way too long,  
__You deliver me,  
__You deliver me!_

As Colonel Sheppard sang the chorus one more time, Jennifer went about her business. Late that evening, after she packed her suitcases for her trip home, she slipped to her knees for the first time in years. Her tears began to flow, and she whispered, "Deliver me!"

By the time she returned from her quick trip to see her father, her smile had found its place on her face once again. And she carried a new iPod filled with music that warmed her heart and spoke to her soul. As she settled back into her office, she chose one song to set the tone for her first day back to work.

_When I feel like I can't go on,  
__You deliver me.  
__When the road is winding way too long,  
__You deliver me,  
__You deliver me!_


	7. Glorious Day

**Author's Note:** In celebration of Good Friday and Easter, I originally intended to post this Chord in two parts. However, with the craziness that was my Easter, I wasn't able to get the second part written. So, I've gone back and reworked this chapter, completing the song. Hence the reason for the re-post. I apologize for the delay, but celebrating Jesus's resurrection is something Christians should do everyday. "Glorious Day" was written by John Wilbur Chapman and is in the public domain. This version of the song was written by Michael Blecker and Mark Hall, and recorded on Casting Crowns' album _Until the Whole World Hears_. Enjoy! ~lg

oOo

The music caught Ronon's attention as he walked onto the balcony. Sheppard always listened to heavy rock music, and Ronon liked that kind of music. This was different. Soft chords of a piano—at least that's what Sheppard called it—came from the small iPod in his hand.

_One day when heaven was filled with His praises  
__One day when sin was as black as could be  
__Jesus came forth to be born of a virgin  
__Dwelt among men, my example is He._

_The Word was made flesh  
__And the Light shined among us  
__His glory revealed_

"Hey, Sheppard." Ronon interrupted the song.

His friend turned and glanced at him. "Oh, hey."

"You okay?" Ronon scowled, concerned. He'd rarely seen Sheppard so subdued, and it concerned him.

"Fine." Sheppard shrugged. "Just thinking."

"About what?"

Sheppard held up the iPod. "What the song's saying."

_One day they led Him up Calvary's mountain  
__One day they nailed Him to die on a tree  
__Suffering anguish, despised and rejected  
__Bearing our sins, my Redeemer is He._

_The hands that healed nations  
__Stretched out on a tree  
__And took the nails for me_

_'Cause living He loved me  
__Dying He saved me  
__Buried He carried my sins far away.  
__Rising He justified me  
__Freely forever.  
__One day He's coming,  
__Oh glorious day!_

Ronon's grin started as the song went on. He didn't understand who this Jesus was and why the cross was so significant. But he understood honorable death in battle. It sounded like Jesus was a martyr. "So, what's on your mind?"

"Just. . .today."

"What about it?"

"It's Good Friday."

"What?"

Sheppard turned and let out a deep sigh. "Good Friday is the day we traditionally celebrate the death of Jesus."

"And He was. . .?"

"The Son of God." John turned off the music. "He came to Earth and died for all humanity."

"Why?"

"To redeem us and save us from our sins."

"You really believe that?"

"Yes." Sheppard nodded. "I really believe that. McKay thinks I'm nuts, and I know you don't really understand everything, but it's part of me now. And this weekend—Easter—is a big reason why it's a part of me. Jesus was God in human form, and He sacrificed Himself so that all humanity didn't have to bear the guilt for their sins.

"Remember when we were captured along with you? Right after Rodney got shot with the arrow?" John went on. "Well, you were about to sacrifice yourself to save just me and Teyla. Jesus did just that, but for _everyone_, not just a few."

Ronon narrowed his eyes. "So, He died? Why follow a guy who's dead?"

"Because he didn't stay that way." Sheppard shrugged. "Easter Sunday celebrates the day He rose from the dead."

"Like when the Wraith bring someone back from the dead?" Ronon asked, thinking back to his recent incarceration with the Wraith once worshiped by Tyre.

Sheppard screwed up his face in that classic way that said he was trying to figured out how to say something. "Not exactly. He rose out of His own power."

"Oh." Ronon jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. "Well, I was looking for you. Wanted to know if you wanted to spar a bit."

"Maybe later." John turned back to the horizon. "Just give me a few more minutes."

"Okay." Ronon walked away, leaving his friend and team leader to his thoughts. The remainder of the song played through his head.

_One day the grave could conceal Him no longer.  
One day the stone rolled away from the door.  
Then He arose, over death He had conquered.  
Now He's ascended, my Lord forever more._

_Death could not hold Him,  
The grave could not keep Him from rising again_

_Living He loved me,  
Dying He saved me,  
Buried He carried my sins far away  
Rising He justified  
Freed me forever  
One day He's coming back  
Glorious day!_

How did a man rise from the dead? Ronon knew it was possible with the Wraith, but he'd never heard of it happening with a mere human before. The simple power over death made this Jesus one of the most powerful men in history.

_One day the trumpet will sound for His coming.  
One day the skies with His glories will shine.  
Wonderful day, my Beloved One's bringing,  
Glorious Savior, this Jesus is mine._

Was that really how Sheppard felt? If so, who else felt that way? Sheppard's words about Jesus, especially the reason for his death, confused Ronon. He'd been ready to kill himself to save Sheppard and Teyla because he loved them. But that was his family, his friends. What kind of man would sacrifice himself for the _entirety_ of humanity? And then rise again to demonstrate his power?

Ronon didn't know, but he thought that a man like that just might be the kind of person he'd one day like to meet.


End file.
